


Piece by Piece

by OctopusQueen



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Adult Eddie Kaspbrak, Adult Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Adult Richie Tozier, Aftermath of Violence, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Seduction, Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Famous Richie Tozier, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Love at First Sight, M/M, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Richie Tozier Flirts, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Seduction, Sex, Sex Work, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Smut, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26386558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctopusQueen/pseuds/OctopusQueen
Summary: Richie is doing just fine. Really, he is. He's nearing forty, he's got a decently successful career, he's got a non-existent love life, but who has the time for such things, anyway?He's doing absolutely fine, right up until the night he's on tour in New York and his manager decides to send a prostitute to his room. Richie expected he'd just turn the kid away, maybe give him $100 for his time.He did not expect his entire life to get turned upside down.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 13
Kudos: 94





	Piece by Piece

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, I had so much fun writing this. I have about a half dozen things I'm currently working on in my other universe, but this AU just wormed its way into my head and absolutely would not leave until I wrote it. So I hope y'all like this one too, and I promise that as soon as this is done I'll be right back to But We're the Greatest, They'll Hang Us in the Louvre!
> 
> My head canon while writing this is that Richie is almost 40 and Eddie is around 28, but I suppose you can imagine them at any age you want.

Piece by Piece - Part 1

  
  


“You know what, Jason? Every single day I become more convinced that in a past life I committed a heinous atrocity against mankind, and my cosmic punishment is that in this life I am cursed by your constant company.”

Richie spit out the final words, hoping the venom in his voice was not lost over the phone. To his dismay, he only heard Jason chuckle on the other end of the receiver, and Richie slid a hand up under his glasses to rub over his eyelids, flopping backwards on his hotel room bed and trying to melt into the mattress.

“Now that’s not a very nice thing to say to the man who has gotten you to every single show on time for the last eight months,” his manager replied teasingly.

“I would have made it on time on my own,” Richie responded indignantly, and he heard Jason let out a genuine laugh.

“Oh yeah right. How many minutes before your call time was I dragging your hungover ass into a cab this morning?”

Richie only grumbled in response, knowing he was right. Jason had been his manager for over ten years and he had seen Richie’s career through a major metamorphosis. It was very likely that Richie would not be where he was in his career if not for Jason.

That didn’t mean he didn’t grate Richie’s fucking nerves sometimes, like tonight when Richie had finally finished the last show of his tour and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with room service and Netflix, but Jason was aggressively insisting he needed to ‘enjoy his last day in New York’ and ‘see all the city had to offer’.

Richie would have rather boiled himself alive like a lobster than leave his hotel room again that night, and he told Jason as much.

“Lucky for you, I found you something you can do in the comfort of your own room.”

Richie furrowed his brow, immediately disliking the smugness in Jason’s voice.

“Unless that ‘something’ is a steak dinner and a bottle of scotch, I’m not interested.”

“Oh, I think you’ll change your mind soon,” Jason immediately replied, his voice now an octave higher and dripping with insinuation. “In fact, I think you’ll change it very, very soon.”

On cue, there was a knock on the door of Richie’s hotel suite, one that was undoubtedly not room service.

“Jason, what did you do?” Richie asked seriously, sitting up and peering around the corner, down the hall to the door, a knot of dread forming in the pit of his stomach as he wondered what Jason could possibly have concocted.

“You know how you never go on any of the dates that I work oh so very hard to set up for you, because, and I quote you directly, ‘it’s just way too much effort to go through to get laid’?”

Richie opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to wrap his head around the situation and formulate a response, but Jason didn’t give him the chance.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about putting in any effort here. I made it very easy for you.”

Richie stammered in confusion for the briefest of moments, before it dawned on him and he could feel his heart sink.

“You didn’t,” Richie protested, even though he knew he definitely did.

“Don’t worry,” Jason continued, voice dripping with self-satisfaction. “The agency is discreet. Apparently they service a lot of high-profile clients.”

“You didn’t,” Richie repeated, not even angry, just exasperated, but Jason just ignored him and continued on.

“I picked him out myself, and trust me, he’s definitely your type, Rich. Now you have fun tonight, and don’t say I never did anything for ya.”

“Jason,” Richie protested again, but this time there was no response. Richie pulled his phone away from his ear to see that Jason had ended the call, and for a moment he wondered if he’d just hallucinated the entire interaction.

He was only left to wonder for the briefest of moments before there was another knock on the door, this time a little louder and more insistent.

Richie sighed heavily, tossing the phone down on the bed next to him and heading towards the door, rubbing his temples to try to stave off the headache that was threatening to form.

He’d say he couldn’t believe Jason, but honestly this was exactly the kind of thing Jason would do. He’d helped Richie so much, and in so many ways beyond his professional obligations, but sometimes he just didn’t know where to draw the line, and this was definitely one of those times.

Richie took another deep breath as he reached the door to his hotel room, mentally preparing himself for the interaction. He fully intended to just turn the guy away and get back to his private evening, but he figured he should probably give him $100 for his time.

Richie dug a hand into his back pocket to ensure he had his wallet on him before finally opening the door.

“Hey, listen man-”

The words died somewhere in his throat as his brain short-circuited. Unfortunately, his mouth seemed to be slow to keep up, so it kept on opening and closing even though no noise was coming out, leaving him gasping stupidly for air. He tried desperately to regain his composure, to speak, to move, to do  _ something _ , anything at all, but he just couldn’t. All he could do was stand and stare and breathe, and he could barely even manage that, because standing right in front of him was… was…

An angel.

Well, not a literal angel, of course. But he was definitely the most beautiful boy Richie had ever seen.

At first, the only thing Richie could think was just ‘eyes, eyes,  _ eyes’.  _ They were just the biggest damn eyes, so wide and chocolate-brown and soulful with just a hint of mischief. Richie almost felt like he was being sucked into them.

And then those lips, god, they were just so pretty and pink and they looked so soft and delicious as they curled their way up into a sly smile. Richie just needed to taste them, needed to lick his way between them.

His dark brown hair was carefully styled but still looked soft and silky, like it was just begging for Richie to stroke his fingers through it and tousle it up.

And Jesus, his skin. It was just absolutely perfect, practically glowing; it looked just heavenly soft and buttery and was slightly tanned. He was wearing a tight black v neck that showed off his toned chest and stomach, plus he had on these skin tight dark jeans that hugged every curve of his hips and thighs.

Richie was frozen, just trying to take him in, only able to absorb him but by bit. It was like trying to look directly at the sun; it was just too bright, too beautiful, too overwhelming.

“Hey there, handsome,” he cooed in a way that was obviously rehearsed, but not ineffective. Richie almost felt himself melt on the spot. “Can I come in?”

In complete defiance of his rational thought, Richie nodded dumbly and stepped aside, letting the young man step through the doorway and catching a whiff of… something, maybe soap, maybe cologne, maybe just his innate scent, but in any case it was intoxicating.

“Nice place you got here,” the man commented admirably, peering around the gorgeous suite.

“Thanks,” Richie choked out, finally finding his voice. He closed the door behind him with a snap that echoed throughout the spacious hotel room. He nervously wiped his sweaty palms on the sides of his pants, his heart still hammering at the sight of this beautiful creature in front of him. “I actually broke in through the balcony. We probably only have about 20 minutes before the Obamas get back and call the police.”

He let out a laugh that didn’t seem entirely forced before turning back around to face Richie.

“You’re funny,” the young man said flatteringly, beginning to encroach on his space with that sly smile still affixed firmly to his face. “What’s your name, funny guy?”

He was almost toe to toe with Richie at that point, and Richie almost felt like a wild animal cornered as he pressed his back against the door. He swallowed hard and pushed his glasses back up his sweaty nose, trying not to get distracted by the light dusting of freckles across this beautiful boy’s face.

“Uh… Richie. My name’s Richie,” he finally replied. “What’s… what’s yours?”

“You can call me Jack.”

Richie had a split second to wonder if that was actually his real name before the boy, Jack, was pushing in even closer. Richie could feel his hot breath ghosting over his neck before Jack started to give wet kisses along the length of his jaw, pressing the entire length of his tight body up against Richie.

Richie couldn’t help but moan out loud as his eyes rolled back into his head and he threw his head back against the door. God, that  _ mouth…  _ it was just absolutely fucking incredible. The heat from Jack’s body was like a radiator, and Richie could already feel himself start to stiffen in his pants.

“Just so you know…” Jack whispered in his ear with a slight purr. “Your friend paid for the whole package tonight. That means you can do whatever you want. Everything is on the table, sexy.”

And with that, just the tiniest crack was formed in the spell that had been cast on Richie, enough that he was brought back to reality and suddenly remembered exactly what this was. He placed a firm hand on Jack’s slender shoulder and gently pushed him away, putting some space between them and allowing him to look into Jack’s deep brown eyes.

Jack looked surprised, but not exactly offended. Still, Richie felt weirdly guilty for pushing him away, and felt the sudden need to explain himself.

“Sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly. “I’ve, uh, I’ve never exactly done this before.”

At that, the mischievous smile returned in full force, and he took a step back into Richie’s space, giving Richie a massive whiff of his intoxicating scent and looking up at him through long, dark fluttering lashes.

“First time?” he purred softly. “That’s okay.”

“Do you mind if we sit down?” Richie gasped out. He was suddenly dizzy, he almost felt drunk even though he was as sober as could be.

Jack just smiled and nodded in response, stepping aside and allowing Richie to lead him down the hall and to the main part of the suite. Richie noticed him look around admirably at the massive room, his eyes lingering on the piano in the main room as he led Jack over to the enormous leather sofa and they both sat down.

Jack sat purposefully close to him on the couch, close enough that their thighs were touching, and immediately placed a delicate hand on Richie’s knee, slowly trailing it upward towards his groin.

“Do you want something to eat?” Richie blurted out, making Jack freeze in his tracks and look up at him with raised eyebrows. “I was gonna get some room service before you got here.”

Jack gave him a small smile.

“No, I’m fine. You can eat though, if you want.”

“You sure?”

Richie could tell he was trying to maintain a persona, but he could have sworn he saw something deep in his eyes when Richie offered him food. It made Richie’s heart pang, and he couldn’t help but wonder when this kid had last had a truly decent meal.

Richie cleared his throat and placed a hand on top of Jack’s where it was resting on his upper thigh.

“Look,” he began, voice low, and in a tone he hoped was warm. “You said I have the full package, right? Whatever I want?”

Jack looked deep into his eyes for a moment, then nodded slightly.

“Well, I want you to have something to eat with me.”

Jack still looked unsure as Richie twisted around to grab the room service menu off the end table that was next to the couch. He placed it firmly in Jack’s hands, and he immediately looked at it like it was a holy scripture taken straight from the ark of the covenant. He was wide-eyed and looked almost overwhelmed as he poured over the food choices, and he stammered a bit in his uncertainty, but Richie found it oddly endearing. It was his first real glimpse into the real man who was sitting next to him, rather than the vixen he was trying to be.

“Why don’t you just get the same thing I’m getting?” Richie finally threw him a lifeline, and Jack nodded gratefully, setting the menu down on the glass coffee table in front of him.

Richie made a quick call down to the front desk to order their meal, two filet mignon cooked medium rare and a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue. In the meantime, he flipped on the enormous TV that was directly in front of the couch and connected to Netflix.

“Dinner and Netflix, the true vacation special,” Richie quipped, glancing over at Jack who was still looking a little lost, almost as if he didn’t quite know what to make of the current situation. “What are you in the mood for?”

Jack’s enormous eyes went even wider.

“W-what?”

“What kind of movies do you like?”

Oh, uh, I, um, I don’t know,” Jack stammered out, starting to chew on his nail nervously. It was so cute Richie could barely stand it.

“You don’t know?” Richie teased. “Well, the last time you went to a movie, what did you see?”

“I, uh… I haven’t been to a movie in… in a while,” Jack answered quietly, and once again Richie felt a yank on his heart.

“How about a comedy, then?”

Jack nodded agreeably, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Richie had just turned on  _ Airplane!, _ which he called ‘necessary viewing for absolutely everyone,’ when there was a knock at the door and he hopped up to get their dinner.

For a while they ate in silence, watching the movie. Well, Jack was watching the movie, while Richie was mostly watching Jack. He could tell Jack was trying to maintain composure, but was having a hard time concealing just how much he was enjoying himself, stifling laughter while watching the film, and forcing himself to slow down while eating. It seemed to be touching into an instinct that Richie didn’t even know he had; seeing this beautiful young man so happy and content and enjoying luxuries he was probably not often privy to… and just knowing that  _ he  _ was the cause of it… Richie couldn’t quite explain it, but it made him want to go even further. He wanted to give this kid the moon, and he couldn’t even quite articulate why.

Richie poured them both a glass of Scotch, but Jack’s mouth formed a very thin line as he pushed the glass away. Once again Richie was brought back to the harsh reality of the situation: they weren’t a couple, or even two friends hanging out. Jack was technically on the job right now and had to keep his wits about him.

Still, there was an air of comfortable contentment between them as they sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, eating their dinner and watching a classic comedy film, and Richie was almost teetering on the brink of being grateful towards Jason. He was right, this guy was definitely his type, in more ways than Jason had probably even realized.

“So, are you from New York?” Richie finally broke the silence, and Jack’s head jerked to the side, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry if that’s too personal,” Richie quickly backpedaled. “I know you have certain... boundaries.”

“No, no,” Jack assured him. “It’s fine, you can ask me whatever. It’s just… it’s weird to have someone actually want to know.”

“Well, I do,” Richie responded gently, and Jack gave him a timid little smile in response.

“No, I’m not from New York, I’ve lived here for about ten years though. I’m actually from Maine.”

“Get out.”

“What?”

“I am too.”

“No way!”

There was a spark of genuine excitement behind Jack’s eyes, one that made Richie feel something warm and fuzzy inside, like an old television that had just been turned off but was still buzzing with electricity.

They talked about Maine for a bit: the gorgeous summers, the apocalyptic winters, the obsessive fishing culture, the fact that they both (blasphemously) found lobster to be a bit overrated. In time, they finished eating and moved back to the couch, the movie still playing, but now more as background noise since they were so deep in conversation.

Eventually Richie asked how Jack had ended up moving to New York, which was a clear mistake because Jack immediately shut down in response, getting a faraway look in his eyes. Unwilling to give up the conversation that easily, Richie jumped in to tell Jack about how he left Maine after high school and moved to Los Angeles before eventually settling in Chicago, taking him through the ups and downs of his career as well as some funny stories along the way. Jack seemed genuinely interested, or maybe he was just good at pretending to be, but either way Richie was happy to take it.

The conversation came around to Jason, and how he has been both a godsend and hellfire for Richie since he became his manager so many years ago. One particular anecdote led to Jack launching into a story about one of his roommates, before he stopped abruptly, biting his lip with uncertainty. Perhaps he was worried about interrupting Richie, or maybe he was just worried about overstepping his boundaries and oversharing, but either way Richie reached a hand forward and laid it on Jack’s knee, smiling at him in encouragement and urging him to continue.

At some point Jack had settled down into the couch, an arm slung over the back of the couch and a foot tucked underneath him, his shirt riding up slightly, exposing a strip of the beautifully tanned skin of his stomach. He looked relaxed, downright natural, like he belonged there.

A part of Richie was still buzzing with the same raw desire that he felt the moment he’d opened the door. Part of him still wanted to ravage him, wanted to peel away those skin tight clothes and expose even more of that beautiful skin. A part of him was just dying to know if that skin was as soft as it looked.

But an even bigger part of him wanted more than that. He wanted so much more from this beautiful boy than just sex, he wanted to know him inside and out, and he hung onto every word that was coming out of Jack’s mouth.

The movie ended, and there was a beat of silence between them after the credits rolled and the Netflix home screen returned. The air between them was not quite uncomfortable, but it was heavy with anticipation. Jack gazed at Richie out of the corner of his eye, looking a bit unsure of where to go from here.

Richie tentatively slid his arm from the back of the couch, draping it over Jack’s shoulders and wrapping a hand around his shoulder, his large palm easily enveloping his upper bicep.

Jack startled, almost as if he’d forgotten what he was really here for, but before he could respond, Richie was laying them both down, easily rearranging Jack’s smaller body next to his so that they were both laying on the couch, Jack pressed up against him. Richie’s large arms encircled his body, holding him close, and Jack’s head fit easily under Richie’s chin.

Jack seemed frozen, his body rigid and preventing him from relaxing fully into Richie’s arms.

“Whatever I want, right?” Richie whispered, and Jack nodded in response before finally he seemed to let go, pressing forward and nuzzling his face into the center of Richie’s chest.

Richie reached over the top of him and pulled a fluffy blanket from the back of the sofa, draping it over both of their bodies before burying his face in Jack’s hair and inhaling his sweet, intoxicating scent. He felt full and content and it had been so long since he’d held someone in his arms like this, and despite the lights left on and the busy noises of the city outside the window, he quickly found himself drifting off to sleep.

~

Eddie’s eyes blinked open several hours later awakened by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. At first, he felt lost and confused, almost panicked, at waking up in a strange room with a pair of arms wrapped around him, then he breathed a sigh of relief as he remembered the earlier parts of the evening, and then that dissolved into panic once again as he realized he had been asleep for hours and had yet to check in with his pimp.

A lump formed in his throat as he fathomed how mad Randy would be with him. He was good at his job and never failed to supply Eddie with a steady string of clients with fat wallets, but he was a brash man, temperamental and quick to blow his fuse, and few things made him more angry than when he felt he was not in complete control of his employees and their whereabouts. Eddie’s breath quickened as he imagined the beating, and likely raping, he was in for tonight at the hands of his pimp, and he was surprised to find Richie’s grip tighten around him, and even more surprised at how calming he found that simple gesture to be. He had to fight the urge to cuddle further into Richie’s big, slightly muscled arms.

It was definitely a bit strange, being cuddled and held by a John like this. But then again, pretty much everything from tonight had been strange: eating a fancy dinner together, watching a movie, the hours spent just talking and laughing and getting to know each other, and then falling asleep together on the couch… it wasn’t necessarily bad, it was just… weird.

Eddie couldn’t quite wrap his head around Richie. He was a different kind of man than Eddie was used to dealing with, particularly in this kind of work. He’d seemed so eager to shower Eddie with gifts and affection.

A few Johns had bought Eddie gifts before, usually some sexy lingerie or some toys, but they always wanted something in return. It was a down payment, and Eddie was expected to pay up immediately. But Richie… Richie didn’t seem to want anything in return at all. It was like seeing Eddie’s happiness was payment enough. It was unlike anything Eddie had ever experienced before, and he just didn’t know what to make of it.

One thing was for certain: he had to go. As much as part of him wanted to chase this elusive, fleeting feeling of warmth, of true compassion the likes of which he had hardly seen before, he couldn’t stay, and every second he was here was a second he was delaying the inevitable.

Eddie carefully extracted himself from Richie’s embrace, sliding off of the couch and back to his feet.

“You leaving?”

It wasn’t loud, but it still startled Eddie. He felt oddly sheepish as he turned to face Richie blinking up at him from the couch, like he was a teenager who’d been caught sneaking out at night.

“Uh, yeah. I mean… I have to check back in with the agency at the end of a… of a… you know…” he trailed off, but there was no response from Richie, he just kept looking up at him from where he was still nestled comfortably into the couch.

“And, uh,” Eddie continued. “I’m sorry, I was just assuming we were done here?”

Richie didn’t respond, he just sat up slowly, stretching his arms up above his head, while Eddie shifted nervously from one foot to the other, wondering if he should just leave now.

“Did you have a nice night?” Richie asked finally, and Eddie blinked at him rapidly, taken aback by the question.

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie finally replied after a long moment. “Actually, I did.”

It was true. In fact, it had been one of the best nights he’d had in a long time, but he thought it might be too much to add that detail.

“Do you want to stay?” Richie asked, voice gentle and inviting. “The night, I mean?”

“It’ll cost you extra,” Eddie responded automatically, and Richie just shrugged.

“I’ll pay it. If you want to stay.”

“You’re…” Eddie chewed his lip, trying not to get his hopes up. “You’re sure?”

Richie nodded.

“I mean, unless I’m gonna wake up in a tub of ice tomorrow without my kidney.”

Eddie laughed earnestly. He couldn’t deny that he found Richie to be genuinely funny. He’d known who he was prior to tonight and had been a casual fan, but he was particularly impressed with how easily he could crack jokes on the fly and make him laugh.

“Ok, I’ll tell the agency.”

Eddie pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Randy, hoping that the extra money he was going to bring in from this overnight stay would outweigh whatever bad will Randy might be feeling towards him for not checking in on time.

He finished the text and put his phone back in his pocket, then rubbed his arm nervously, looking over to see Richie was also shifting uncomfortably on the couch, both of them clearly a bit unsure about where to go from here.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Richie finally asked, breaking the silence.

Eddie perked up at the offer, and he was nodding in response before he even realized it. He couldn’t help himself, the idea of actually taking a shower without being interrupted by one of his seven roommates just sounded downright heavenly.

Richie showed him into the bathroom and assured him he could take all the time he wanted before leaving him in privacy to peel off the tight material of his clothes and climb into the enormous marble shower.

Eddie immediately turned the water on as hot as it would go, so hot it was almost scalding, and allowed the room to fill with steam. The hot water in his apartment was constantly verging on nonexistent, and in the rare occasions when it was actually working he’d usually get beaten to the shower by one of his roommates.

Eddie stood under the piping hot stream of water until he couldn’t stand it anymore, until his skin was smarting bright red, before finally turning the temperature down a bit, and starting to actually wash himself.

It was truly like he’d stepped into a different universe than his crappy apartment in the Bronx; aside from just the temperature, the water pressure was like a dream in comparison to the inconsistent, often trickling spray of water he was used to. Plus he’d already spent more time in there than he’d ever been able to at home: he was lucky to get five minutes alone in the bathroom before one of his roommates started banging on the door.

Eddie took his time washing, taking full advantage of the wide array of fancy soaps, shampoos, and conditioners that had been supplied by the hotel. He ended up washing his hair twice, once with each shampoo, before conditioning, and then scrubbing his entire body down with some nice-smelling exfoliant, all things that he certainly did not take for granted. He usually had to make the same bar of soap stretch out to last as long as possible before he could afford to buy another; there’d been a few times in the past he’d even had to clean himself with dish soap in a pinch.

Eventually Eddie finished rinsing off and turned off the shower, climbing out of the steamy chamber and drying himself off with an enormous fluffy towel. He was surprised to see that his clothes were no longer where he’d left them, and in their place was a neatly folded t-shirt and pair of sweatpants.

Eddie picked them up, rubbing his fingers across the soft material before putting them on, immediately being enveloped in the oversized clothing and sighing involuntarily at the feeling. The clothes were well-worn, but just to the point of being comfortable, not falling apart at the seams like so much of Eddie’s wardrobe.

He tugged up the pants a little where they were pooling around his ankles before walking out of the bathroom. The TV had been turned off and their empty plates had been cleared away, the lights all turned down. Eddie followed the beam of light that was coming from what was clearly the bedroom, where he found Richie sitting on the end of an enormous, lavish bed, also dressed in sleeping clothes and playing around on his phone.

Richie looked up when he heard Eddie enter the room, and his face morphed into something Eddie couldn’t quite comprehend at the initial sight of Eddie wearing his clothes. Eddie blushed under his gaze, tugging awkwardly at the hem of the shirt, which fell well past his waist.

“I, uh,” Richie offered hoarsely. “I sent your clothes down to be laundered. They’ll be delivered to the door first thing in the morning.”

Eddie just nodded in acknowledgement, twisting the fabric of the t-shirt in his hand.

“I hope those are okay.”

“They’re… they’re great,” Eddie responded earnestly, and he could see Richie duck his head to hide his smile.

“Do you need anything else?”

Eddie shook his head quickly.

“You all ready for bed, then?”

Eddie nodded, his heart pounding rapidly, although he wasn’t sure why. He’d gone to bed with so many guys (albeit not usually to sleep), why was he feeling this way when it came to Richie?

“You have a side preference?” Richie quipped, and Eddie laughed earnestly, appreciating his ability to break the tension.

They both climbed into bed, and Richie set his glasses on the nightstand before shutting off the light, plunging them in relative darkness save for the city lights outside.

Still feeling unsure, Eddie just laid on his side, facing outward. The entire wall of the bedroom was a giant window, showing an aerial view of the city and some of its major landmarks. As he laid there, wrapped up in soft, silky sheets and fluffy bedding, taking in a view of New York he rarely got to see, he tried to imagine the city through the eyes of a person who stayed at a hotel like this. He tried to picture their New York, how beautiful and bright and lively and exuberant the city was to them when looking at it from way up here. Of course, they didn’t know the real New York, the grit and the grime and the scrounging up pennies and having to decide between eating and paying rent.

He was so lost in thought that he jumped a bit when Richie wrapped an arm around him from behind.

“Sorry,” Richie apologized quickly. “Are you not a cuddler? You don’t have to-”

“No, no,” Eddie cut him off. “It’s fine.”

He settled back against Richie’s solid chest, allowing Richie to pull him in close and bury his face in his hair, trying to force himself to relax.

He must not have been succeeding, because Richie quipped, “Just pretend you’re back in your own bed in your own apartment, listening to your neighbor scream about how the Mets are losing again.”

Eddie exhaled in a small laugh before nuzzling his cheek down into the buttery soft pillow.

“I don’t have one, actually.”

“What, a neighbor?”

“No, a bed.”

Eddie’s not even sure what possessed him to say it. It was true, but he still shouldn’t have said it. It was silly to think Richie would want to know or care about any of that.

Surprisingly, Richie’s grip on him only tightened. He pulled Eddie in impossibly close, completely enveloping him in his warm embrace.

For a moment, Eddie almost pretended that this was real. He could almost imagine that he was here on vacation with his boyfriend, wearing his soft clothes, staying in a fancy hotel, cuddling up in bed… he could almost forget he was actually a callboy who was just with a John who didn’t even know his real name and who he’d probably never see again except on TV.

And with that fantasy in his mind, Eddie drifted off into a deep sleep and had the most pleasant dream he’d had in years.

~

When Richie awoke the next morning, it was immediately different. First of all, he wasn’t waking up to the sound of the blaring alarm on his phone or to Jason pounding on the door to tell him to get his ass out of bed because he was late. Instead, he awoke to the sound of faint music coming from somewhere in his hotel room. Second, there was the scent: the sweet smell lingering on the sheets and the pillow on the distinctly slept-in half of the bed next to Richie.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d actually slept with another person.

Richie grabbed his glasses and climbed out of bed, following the sound of music out of the bedroom and into the main part of the suite, where Jack was seated at the piano, already dressed, fingers dancing across the keys.

Richie was able to linger by the wall unnoticed for a bit, just observing him, before finally Jack seemed to become aware of the eyes on him.

Jack looked immediately embarrassed at being caught, almost ashamed.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I just… I thought I could play a little without waking you.”

“Keep going,” Richie encouraged, folding his arms and leaning against the wall.

Jack looked up at him with wide eyes, hesitating for a moment before picking up where he’d left off in the song, closing his eyes as he played.

He finished the song, and Richie unfolded his arms to clap earnestly, making Jack flush, but smile just a bit.

“Sorry,” Jack repeated, looking down at his hands where they were still resting on top of the keys. “I know I’m not that good. I don’t get the chance to practice much because I don’t exactly… have access to a piano. There’s this hotel in Midtown that lets me play in the lobby every once in a while, as long as I wear something nice. Sometimes I even get tips. But that’s really the only chance I get to play.”

Richie approached, crossing the room in two long strides and sliding onto the bench next to Jack, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. He raised up a hand and placed it on top of one of Jack’s small, delicate ones where it was still resting on top of the keys of the piano.

“Maybe I’ll get to see you play sometime,” he said gently, but earnestly. It may have been a pipe dream, but he hoped he was conveying to Jack how much he wanted it to be true.

Jack just looked down at where Richie’s large hand covered his, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, before finally pulling his hand away and standing up.

“I have to go. Rand- uh, my pimp, gets mad if I don’t check in by 11.”

Richie nodded understandingly and stood up as well, walking Jack back to the front door, feeling oddly wistful and with a strange tightness in his chest at the prospect of saying goodbye.

Jack gave him a final smile as they approached the door and he reached for the handle.

“Wait,” Richie interjected suddenly, making Jack pause and watch curiously as Richie jogged back to the bedside table to fetch his wallet.

Richie dug some cash out of his wallet, not even bothering to see how much it was before reaching forward and offering it to Jack, who only shook his head and gazed up at Richie with his big, beautiful eyes.

“All payment is handled by the agency.”

“Well, maybe the agency doesn’t have to know about this.”

Jack bit his lip as he looked down at the wad of cash that Richie was still holding out to him.

“Call it a tip,” Richie encouraged. “For the music.”

A tentative smile crept onto Jack’s face, and he finally took the money from Richie’s outstretched hand, sticking it in his back pocket.

He had stepped forward into Richie’s space to take the money from him, and after stowing it he didn’t move back. Instead, he took another step forward and placed a hand on Richie’s upper arm, raising up onto his tip toes. 

Jack’s soft, supple lips pressed against his in a chaste kiss that was over as soon as it started, but left Richie’s head feeling fuzzy and light. He squeezed his bicep once and offered him a final mischievous smile, before disappearing out the front door.

Richie stood in the foyer, frozen, his thoughts a jumbled, tangled mess of string that he couldn’t sort out, until finally Jason called to tell him to get his ass to the airport before he missed his flight.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I told Caroline, my proofreader, this already, but Eddie's experience in New York is highly influenced by a period in my life when I was fresh out of college and I lived in a shithole apartment in the south Bronx where I had 6 roommates (7 if you count the mouse), none of them spoke English, I did not have a bed, we did not have hot water most of the time, or electricity, or a refrigerator, and it cost me $600 a month.


End file.
